


Pretty Phrases Have No Power

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: F/M, Language Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grigor had thought it’d be useful to learn some Russian at around the same time he started paying attention to the opposite sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Phrases Have No Power

**Author's Note:**

> Had a bunch of pieces of fic involving Grigor that I've been writing for months but nothing worked on its own. This is what happens when they're mashed together.

Grigor had decided to learn Russian at around the same time he started paying attention to the opposite sex. There were a lot of attractive young Russian women rising up the ranks in the early-to-mid 2000s so a sound plan, as there would be little use for Bulgarian, sadly.

There was no advantage regarding English, as everyone on tour had at least limited comprehension. His English could have some effect if done with the right smile and enough charming accent in the word, but he figured his use of Russian just needed enough time to get the language down right.

It was not a huge deal to learn the language itself, as there was some overlap to begin with, but it was all about proficiency. He wasn’t interested in stumbling over translations in his head.

He had various dalliances during his teens but none spoke Russian. Which was fine, as it gave him time to get it done right.

* * * * *

He never expected that his ally for picking up the ladies in his teens would be a gawky loudmouth Aussie but that’s the way the tour can be amongst the elite juniors. Bernie was the best at utilizing his Croatian-mixed-Australian voice to get what he wanted; he surely couldn’t be using charm as he was a self-absorbed prick about ninety percent of the time.

The surprising fact was how well they worked as a team when in Australia. Of course part of that was due to it being Bernie’s home country so he knew the lay of the land. Thing was, Grigor didn’t actually need a wingman to have success in pickups. Apparently, a strange accent works just fine.

They were always in competition with each other, whether in tournaments or with the ladies as they seemed to share similar taste (or, more appropriately, Bernie would claim interest in anyone Grigor sighted as he was rather indiscriminant). Bernie would snare more numbers but was also more likely to have a soda thrown in his face. In comparison, Grigor was better at just letting them approach him while ending the nights more amicably.

Grigor once bet Bernie couldn’t pick up the prettiest person in the club. That was what qualified as the build-up to their first kiss.

While he’d never considered a guy in that manner before, it wasn’t a big deal, either. There were times Bernie would agree with that wavelength… and then there were moments in which he would sound as if he was parroting his father and instead resume his mass-pickup strategy, decidedly ignoring him those nights.

It was an annoying back-and-forth and Grigor really needed to ignore those phone calls a lot sooner than he finally did.

* * * * *

The way Grigor actually got Maria’s attention was when he overheard her on the phone with her father, discussing a then-only-possibly-as-opposed-to-actually-dismissed coaching change. He hadn’t expected such an opportunity to present itself while simply waiting to do press. Sure, he liked Maria from what he knew about her on television but this was the chance to impress her. He thought carefully about the wording in Russian before interjecting in her mother tongue that he didn’t think Krajan was a good option as Marat Safin probably still had a hit out on him, causing her to snort with laughter then apologizing profusely into the phone.

Grigor would discover that Maria rarely spoke Russian unless dealing with family members, so it was a surprise she liked speaking Russian to him. It made it seem as if they were encrypting their words from the paparazzi; anything involving trickery toward them was more than encouraged.

Her own Russian was usually criticized by other Russians so his actual comprehension didn’t matter to her in the slightest. If he botched a word, all that happened would be a chuckle or, if really far off, a snort. Just having that back and forth helped him leaps and bounds.

It’s odd to deal with a relationship in the spotlight when, in fact, they’re rarely actually together. There’s the great use of Skype but he’s pretty sure he ranks around number ten on her list of important things. He’ll provide a great distraction for her in the few weeks she actually needs that.

* * * * *

"You speak Russian?"

Grigor turned around slowly. It’s not that he’s never spoken to Novak Djokovic before but Maria had warned about a gossipy Nole on the loose as soon as word first leaked about their relationship. It doesn’t help that Bernie either idolized or crushed on the Serbian for at least a year so he’s already had his fill before really getting on his radar. "Ye-essss."

"Ernie was good for all the bad words. I don’t think he actually taught me anything that wouldn’t get me arrested… or at least laughed at by Maria."

"Which means you throw every Russian word you know her way."

"But of course." Novak leans against the locker, stretching his arm to touch the top. "Now I don’t want to send out the hounds at you if you should break my Maria’s heart. She’s a fragile girl."

He suspects Novak is kidding but can’t be sure. That’s the problem when the person you’re speaking to has that level of power in his country.

* * * * *

If he’s actually honest with himself, Maria wasn’t technically the first time his Russian skills had any correlation with his personal life. He hung around Tursunov in his early days on the main tour. At first he did use a few Russian words but stopped upon realizing Dmitry utilized those opportunities while in public to talk about pornographic dreams he’d have involving buxom blondes, especially when knowing nobody else in the room could understand him.

He hated Dmitry’s sense of humor as much as how red his own face can get over such silly things. Dmitry makes sure to always remind him of what he describes as a "student-teacher crush".

* * * * *

Gulbis says as a greeting, "You’re nothing like Roger." It’s a weird thing to say to your opponent as you’re waiting in the locker room to get called to court. He couldn’t say he knew Gulbis beyond press clippings, of which he was excellent for a quote. This was their first meeting, in Rotterdam.

"Never thought I was but others beg to differ."

"You do gravitate towards the best, however. Best girl, best wine, best player. Nothing but the best for the chosen one," the last words heavy with sarcasm.

"Is this the way you win matches?"

"No. Just having a meet and greet."

Grigor says the Russian word instead of the Bulgarian word for asshole before he even realizes it’s slipped out of his mouth.

Ernie raises an eyebrow then chuckles. "That’s adorable, Grisha. She’s trained you well."

* * * * *

Despite popular reports to the contrary, he doesn’t actually stalk Roger Federer’s closet.

He actually does ask Novak for fashion advice while in Indian Wells. It’s only fair.

"Wouldn’t Maria be better to ask about clothes?"

"This isn’t about Maria. Guys’ night out."

"Ernie respects you for calling him names in his language. Usually they just say it in English or mutter it behind his back."

"He so would."

"He’s good at the discreet angle you actually need. Plus he claims he’s no longer partying but is so hard up for sex that he’s even started calling my brother again." Novak chuckles then shakes his head before continuing his search through websites for appropriate attire.

Grigor so doesn’t want to know but he imagines Ernie would be quite good at a phone sex conversation. That really doesn’t help when playing their third match in a month right after which, not surprisingly, goes in Gulbis’ favor.

* * * * *

"Why are you in Miami?" Grigor says as Bernie hovers over his seated position on the bench. "Aren’t you recovering?"

"You think I don’t know what you’re doing."

"What am I doing?"

"If Maria finds out the truth, she knows powerful people who can fuck you up."

"From what I understand about your father, so do you," which earns the cold glare back he deserves.  Grigor doesn’t need the bullshit from a guy so ridiculously deep in denial about so many things. "Again, why are you here?"

"If Gulbis finds out the truth, _his_ father knows even more powerful people."

"Wait, _what_?"

"I’ve seen your matches the last month. Had a lot of time to catch up on my viewing. Plus Novak called to ask me questions about you I really wish I hadn’t known how to answer. From how I see it, he’s your ideal. You _seek out_ the attractive alluring and exotic women but you’re actually _attracted_ to assholes."

"Apparently, given you’re Exhibit A. Go home, Bernie."

Bernie gives a smile that Grigor has learned to hate before heading off.

* * * * *

Ernie is laid out on a bench when Grigor comes into the locker room, having forgotten his phone. He doesn’t look well, absolutely drained from his loss to Benneteau, but he seems to regain clarity upon seeing Grigor appear in his view.

"How’s Queen Maria?"

"I don’t know. She’s not taking my calls this week." Anyone else, he’d make up an answer but he kind of wants Ernie to continue this conversation. If it comes off as flirting, well, he sort of is. He opens the lock, takes out the phone and holds it up, then notices there are still no calls from Maria and makes sure to remember to frown.

Ernie turns to his side and takes in Grigor wearing a dress shirt and jeans. "Where are you heading then, dressed like that?" Rather than wait for an answer, however, Ernie starts laughing, the crinkles by his eyes quite noticeable. He then says, "Вы хотели осложнений _._ Я предпочитаю просто."

Grigor freezes, wondering if Ernie is doing this on purpose or if he really doesn’t think he understands beyond swear words.

Ernie stands up suddenly, using his height advantage to intimidate Grigor into backing up into the locker. He moves a hand to Grigor’s neck and leans in to whisper in his ear, "Dmitry taught me a fun trick."

He already feels his face heating up just from Ernie directing those words towards him. The close proximity makes everything even more obvious. Involving Dmitry’s trick is just overkill. "Fuck."

"I’m really interested in pursuing your level of… interest regarding this but I do need to recover from today. Been a bit under the weather." He takes the phone from Grigor’s hand and enters in his phone number, then hands it back. "I’m not intending to get in the middle of a media shitstorm involving Sharapova so this is all you’re getting from me. Mind you, I am _very_ good over the phone but I’d prefer watching you react to me talking about blowing you. Much easier to talk in Russian than translating that into English." Ernie looks at his now-empty hand, debating whether to actually do anything further, then opts to back up. He looks Grigor up and down, as if imagining undressing him, then chuckles. "You are ridiculously easy to rile up."

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Вы хотели осложнений. Я предпочитаю просто. – You like complications. I prefer simple.


End file.
